Birthday Boy
by HarleySavage
Summary: Its Sherlock's birthday and a wine addled Molly goes to give him a sexy gift. How will Sherlock react? Shameless Sherlolly smut.


**Just something I couldnt get out of my head. Only my second ever fanfic so please take it easy on me. But do let me know where I went wrong in a review?**

 **I do not own Sherlock or Molly. Nor do I own the songs mentioned in this fanfic. No copyright infringement is intended and all rights belong to their respective owners.**

It was early evening when Molly had the idea. The kind of idea borne of years of unrequited love, a vast amount of pent up frustration and a bottle of wine that was started somewhat early in the day. Though, it was her day off and it had been a pleasant and balmy day so she felt this was excuse enough.

Today was Sherlock's birthday. She had discovered this fact quite by accident many years before when he had used her flat as a bolt hole after his "death". She had signed for a delivery addressed only to "Birthday Boy". She took it up to Sherlock who opened it only to discover a Lego pirate ship set with a note that simply read: You do so enjoy puzzles. The look on his face could have curdled milk as he jumped up from the couch and promptly ordered a dozen death by chocolate cupcakes to be delivered to Mycrofts office. When asked if it was actually his birthday Sherlock shot her a look that said it would be better for her to drop this particular topic of conversation, which of course only confirmed her suspicions. .

And so there she was on the couch, glass of wine in hand, contemplating the execution of her idea. The Watsons were away in the country for a few days so they wouldn't be at 221B, she wasn't sure they even knew it was his birthday to be honest. Mycroft wasn't the type to celebrate it unless sarcastic gifts were classified as such. Mrs Hudson was at her sisters for a few days. No, Sherlock would be alone at home.

Molly was very aware that Sherlock found birthdays sentimental drivel and did not in any way celebrate the occasion, hated it in fact. Did she want to annoy him? Things had been awkward for a while following the Magnussen case; drugs, fake engagements and short exiles considered. But lately they had been much as they had been after his return, settling into a type of companiable friendship. Yes, she could call them friends now. Did she want to jeopardise that in any way?

Then again, and this was most certainly the wine talking, she was tired of having feelings for the man and never having the courage to really act on it. Yes, she had tried to ask him out for coffee once but apparently she had been too subtle. Or he had been too subtle in turning her down. Actually she wasn't sure which but they were both different people now. And she wasn't getting any younger.

Honestly, what was the worst that could happen? He could reject her, deduce her to the point of tears and tell her she was gravely mistaken if she thought he could be so easily taken in. And though that thought did somewhat dampen her enthusiasm, she shook it off immediately, reasoning that perhaps that would be a good thing too. Finally having a definitive answer might actually help her really get over him at last. Clearly dating Tom had not helped her in the least with that problem.

No, she had to have an answer and she could not be subtle in her approach. She had to absolutely give it everything so there could be no doubt either way.

Her mind made up she downed the last bit of wine in her glass and jumped up from the couch to shower and get ready.

An hour later Molly stood in front of 221B, heartbeat racing, adrenalin coursing through her veins as she raised her finger to depress the buzzer. She took a step back from the door so Sherlock could see who it was from his window. True to form she saw the curtains ruffle before the door buzzed open.

She stepped into the open door and Sherlock turned to her, his blue gown slung over his shoulders covering his usual dress trousers and that white shirt with the buttons straining more than usual. She couldn't blame them, she wouldn't be able to hold herself together either. He threw a genuine smile at her and crossed the floor to greet her.

"Hello Molly. Let me help me with your coat".

His hands had come up expectantly to help her but Molly took a shocked step back, her hand shooting up to hug the coat collar closed, mouth struggling to utter a syllable as he stood waiting.

"Uh...no...uh...I'll keep it o-on for now. Thank you".

He took a step back, eyeing her from head to toe hoping to deduce something that would ease his current confusion. The presence of her light make up and the heels on her feet made his lip quirk up.

"Ah, so a date Molly? Are you killing time before you meet or is there something I could help you with?" He asked as he made his way to the kitchen and switched on the kettle.

She took a deep breath and followed him hesitantly into the kitchen.

"Actually...uh...no date. It's your birthday...so...I mean, I came to say happy birthday".

Sherlock rolled his eyes at her. "Yes, thank you brother dear" he muttered sarcastically. "Tea?"

She held up the bottle of white she had brought with her and shrugged.

"Really Molly, a successful orbit around the earth is hardly a reason for celebration" He swept his hand from her head to her toes. "I'm sure you have other things to do and I'm perfectly fine here. I've never been one partake in such sentimental frivolities."

"Well, I actually...uh...have s-something for you." She couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"Oh?" He leaned to look passed her in an effort to determine what he had missed. She wasn't carrying anything but the bottle of wine.

"Uh..do you think...could we...?" She held up the bottle in gesture.

"Oh yes of course" He pulled two glasses down and filled them before handing one to Molly over the kitchen counter. They sipped their wine in silence for a few moments.

He cleared his throat and gestured to the lounge. "Shall we sit?"

Molly could only nod. He turned to take a seat in his armchair and Molly used that moment to down her glass and promptly fill it again before following him.

He took a seat and looked up at her in confusion as she stood in front of Johns (yes, it would always be his) armchair without actually taking a seat.

She saw him sitting there in his chair, right where she needed him, and she panicked.

 _Come on Molly, you need answers ol' girl. You've come this far, there's no turning back now. There's a good chance this will absolutely blow up but then you'll have your answers. It's now or never Molly_.

She giggled and took a deep sip of wine before setting it on the table next to Sherlock, who followed her movements with furrowed brow, confusion etched in his features as he watched her push the armchair back a little and walk to the mantle to set up her ipod with portable speaker.

She walked back to stand in front of Sherlock, leaning down to take yet another sip of her glass before pulling herself upright, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath in an effort to steel herself for what she was about to do.

She opened her eyes, looked into Sherlock's and reached up to remove the elastic band from her hair, shaking her head to settle the soft curls around her shoulders. She took a remote out of her pocket and pressed the play button throwing it lightly to the floor behind her.

Not taking her eyes from his face, she started to sway her hips as Buttons by the Pussycat Dolls started playing. She threw her chest out and started slowly undoing the buttons on her coat as the chorus started to play, throwing her head to swirl her hair around as her hips kept up their rhythm.

Sherlock had gone completely rigid, clutching the arm of his chair so hard his knuckles were white. He hardly seemed to be seeing Molly at all, wearing what could only be described as his buffering face. She faltered slightly when she saw his reaction but decided it was too late now to back out, she would look more foolish than if she continued. And he hadn't yet thrown her out so the only thing left was to continue.

She turned her eyes from Sherlock and opened her now unbuttoned coat slightly revealing her black and red lacy bra, matching knickers with an unattached garter belt swinging on her bare legs as she bent her knees to the left and threw her right knee out bucking her hips to the beat as the PCD workout video had taught her. Meena had bought it for her as a gift years ago after she had confided Sherlock's deduction of her lips. Meena told her it would make her feel sexy and sod Sherlock if he couldn't see it. She hoped vaguely she looked remotely as sexy as they did.

The bucking of the her hips seemed to have brought Sherlock from his stupor as she saw him shake his head slightly out of the corner of her eye. A wave of panic swept through Molly as she waited for him to get up and usher her out the door whilst muttering the usual diatribe of how he was married to his work and the body was merely transport etcetera. Instead he picked up his glass of wine and took a deep sip whilst shifting slightly in his chair.

She dropped the coat slowly from her shoulders and braved a glance at his face. He was tracing his eyes up and down her body with mouth slightly agape, stopping at her hips as she swung them around and traced her hand from her thigh to her hip. He swallowed thickly before looking at her face. The look she found there filled Molly a confidence she had never had before outside of her job. He was completely undone by her and she had never felt more powerful.

Emboldened, she stepped forward and leaned over his chair with hands on either side as she rolled her shoulders side to side and swept her hair around, pushing her chest down and head up as she stood slowly and twirled around, bending again to travel her hands up her legs to her hips and up, swaying her hips before lightly perching herself on his knees and looking over her shoulder at him. She kicked her legs up to rest over the arm of the chair as she lowered herself down onto the other arm, lifting her hips up and down for a few beats before lowering them again and pushing her chest out again to raise herself up. She gave him a lidded look as she swung her legs back off the chair and onto the floor, leaning forward so her arse was the last to leave him. She turned around again and ran her hand from her bra down to her hips.

Suddenly Sherlock shot up from the couch, grabbed her hands in his and pushed them behind her back to make her stop, pulling her to his chest in the process. He stood there with her, head down, eyes scrunched together, his nose pushed into her hair as he breathed erratically. The song ended and still they stood there, Sherlock had not yet lessened his grip on her, seemingly lost in an internal battle. She basked in their closeness, the feeling of his firm chest pressed against hers and wondered what she should do now. He still hadn't kicked her out yet.

'You can leave your hat on' started playing and she took that as her cue to push Sherlock into action. She lifted her head, her nose brushing his jawline as she breathed on his neck. Her hands still pinned behind her back she started swaying her hips again, her body brushing against Sherlock's. She heard him gasp and let go of her hands which she lifted to his chest and pulled them down over the taught muscles there to rest on his hips, pushing on them slightly to get him to move. After a moment he bent his legs slightly and started to sway with her, her leg coming up between his legs as they rubbed against each in circles. She had to admit, this man had some swing in those hips!

She walked herself around his body, coming to stand behind him. She continued to sway as she pushed her arms under his and up onto his chest. She pushed the first button through before pulling her hands down slowly to the next one, until all of them stood open. She ran her hands down his chest, over his hips and down his thighs as she crouched behind him, making her way back up excruciatingly slowly which made Sherlock hiss. She took a step to the left on her right foot and twirled around on her left foot, bringing her back up to Sherlock's chest. She cupped her hands behind her on Sherlock's sides and lowered herself slowly to the floor again, swaying as she did. Then she put her hands on the floor and pushed up and out with her arse, pushing it into his crotch as she slowly brought up her chest. Her hand came up the side of her body and curled around the nape of his neck, playing with the curls there. With her head resting on his chest she could hear the pounding of his heartbeat in her ear, feel his heavy breathing in her hair.

She wanted to see his face so she swung herself back around and looked up at him. His eyes were closed, his brows slightly furrowed, full lips parted as he tried to catch his breath. At the feeling of her body coming back to his he opened his eyes and shot her such an intense look it made her breath catch. He was a beautiful man but she had never seen him look more beautiful than he did in that moment, without the mask he usually wore, vulnerable but intense and unabashedly sexy with his shirt open.

She licked her lips at the sight before her and Sherlock's hand shot up and curled into her hair, pulling her face to his as he pressed his lips to hers. His other hand wound around her waist, pinning her to his chest as he kissed her passionately. She had never been kissed like that before. Though she had often imagined kissing Sherlock she had to admit that even her fantasies were lacking compared to the real thing. His hand travelled down her arse to her thigh, giving it a slight tug to hitch her leg over his hip. He traced a line of kisses down her neck and over her clavicle as she bent to give him access.

His fingers made their way to her arse and down, softly fluttering over the silk of her knickers. She couldn't take this any more. She pulled herself back up and pushed him away from her slightly. She grabbed his belt and pushed him backwards, guiding him to sofa as she carefully undid the button and zip on his trousers. Gliding her hands under the rough material, she slid her hands over his pants as she pushed the trousers off his arse. He fell back onto the couch as he walked into it and Molly quickly climbed on top of him, straddling his lap. She circled her hips over his erection as she pushed her hands into his curls and pulled, his head lifting with a soft gasp, his eyes fluttering closed. His long neck exposed, she licked up the soft skin there as she had always fantasised. Oh yes, so much better than she had imagined. She nipped at the skin under his ear causing his fingers to dig into the skin on her hips as a low baritone moan left his lips. The sound was her undoing. She needed him right now.

She leaned back and slowly lifted the waistband of his pants down to release his erection, Sherlock lifting his head to look at her with wide eyes. She bent down to kiss him as she ran her finger up his shaft, feeling the shiver run through his body as she did. She broke the kiss to look at him questioningly as she gripped his penis with her hand. A strangled "Please..." was all Sherlock could manage. She pulled her knickers to the side and pushed herself slowly down onto Sherlock, gasping as he filled her. His mouth opened with another moan as his head went back to rest on the sofa.

Molly lifted herself slowly a few times before quickening her pace to the rhythm of 'Sweet Dreams', Sherlock's hands on her hips pulling and pushing her on top of him. Her hand gripped his shoulder, her other curled into his soft curls as she alternated between kissing him and resting her head next to his ear as she took in the sensations pulsing through her body. A heat was building in her stomach and she leaned back, the weight adding friction as she circled her hips faster. Sherlock's wide eyes locked onto her hers as she moved above him, pupils blown back leaving no trace of their usual blue/green. His hands wound their way up her hips to her breasts, pinching her through the material of her bra, the sensation overwhelming her before her orgasm crashed over her, her head flung back as she cried out. His orgasm followed at the breathy escape of his name from her lips.

When she regained the strength in her legs she pulled herself off of him and fell next to him on the sofa, trying to catch her breath. The flood of endorphins coursing through her body left her boneless and she basked in the haze until an electric shock cleared the fog of seratonin and dopamine; she realised that it hadn't been a fantasy, it had happened. With Sherlock Holmes. And while he had certainly partaken (and seemed keen to do so), he was also cold, asexual with certainly no interest in her and it was only a matter of seconds before he ushered her out the door. _What have you done Molly!?_ A panic creeped up on her as she desperately tried to think of damage control. She could leave before he had the chance to kick her out, that should save her some embarrassment. Perhaps they would pretend this had never happened.

She was roused from her contemplations by a soft kiss to her wrist and turned to find Sherlock softly smiling at her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to his chest as he lay back on the couch. He gave her a soft kiss. "Thank you Molly. I do believe that is the best present I have ever received". Her cheeks flushed red and she hid her face in his chest. "I...so you don't want me to go?"

His baritone chuckle vibrated through her chest before he flipped them around, lying her on her back as he lay half over her, kissing his way over her jaw and neck as he spoke, "After extensive research on all the ridiculous manners it is deemed socially acceptable to ask a woman on a date, I knew none of the conventional means were suitable. You are not a conventional woman. I couldn't seem to find the perfect way...but this..." He nibbles on her earlobe as he chuckles again. "This is perfect. Unconventional indeed."

"So do I want you to go Molly?" He licked and nibbled across the soft flesh of her breast, following the curve of her bra. "It would be a shame if I didn't get to unwrap my gift, wouldn't it?" He placed soft kisses over her skin, goosebumps forming where his lips left left her, his hands tracing their way up and down her body. "A gift like this deserves to be unwrapped...slowly...deserves some attention, some appreciation. Don't you think Molly?" She hoped he wasn't look for a verbal response because the capacity for words had forsaken her under the softness of his lips.

Suddenly he wrapped his arms around her and lifted them off the couch, making his way to the bedroom.

"No, Molly Hopper, you're not going anywhere".


End file.
